


Cigs and Pink Teacups

by starklycamila



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race, RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF
Genre: F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, UNHhhh, sick, slow burn kinda, soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:42:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27934060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starklycamila/pseuds/starklycamila
Summary: I read "Push and Pull (But Mostly Push)" by @crest3dwhiteningstrips and couldn't stop thinking about it so I created my version. / Katya loses herself and avoids Trixie for 2 months. They meet up in this chapter. / I wrote this while procrastinating for my final, if y'all want, I'll continue it. Let me know.
Relationships: Trixie Mattel & Katya Zamolodchikova, Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova
Comments: 9
Kudos: 15





	Cigs and Pink Teacups

**Author's Note:**

> No disrespect is intended to anyone mentioned! This is fictional and just for funsies!

“How are you?” she asked bluntly. Katya glanced up for a second and immediately averted her gaze at the sound of Trixie’s tone. “ _ geez, we have an attitude today. _ .” Katya said weakly. “No no, you don’t get to ignore me for months, ask to meet for lunch, and pretend nothing happened,” Trixie said roughly. 

The world of drag had stopped completely during the pandemic. Shows were cancelled and postponed, clubs were closed, all video productions were being put on hiatus, and socializing was being advised against. Trixie invited Katya over every other day in the beginning, they facetimed and texted, but as Katya does every now and then, she slowly distanced herself into silence. She’d reply every few days with a ‘ _ Sorry, just been sleeping a lot. I can maybe go over tomorrow.. I’ll let you know in the morning _ ’ only to go AWOL for another week. Finally, she stopped replying. Trixie texted and called every few days. After three weeks, she went to Katya's place and knocked on the door. Even from the outside, she could smell hints of cigarette smoke. Katya never opened the door. A couple weeks after that, Katya finally reached out with a meek ‘ _ Lunch tomorrow at 6? _ ’. Trixie sent her the address of a cafe close to her place, waiting to see Katya in person instead of bombarding her with questions through texts and sending her into another two weeks of silence. 

Katya sighed. She closed her eyes for a second, her foot shaking against the leg of her chair. She needed a cigarette. She felt weak and being in public around people was making her head pound. The food sitting in front of her was making her nauseous. She was starting to regret reaching out to Trixie. “ _ you know, i just get lost sometimes _ ,” she finally muttered, staring at her hands while picking at her nails. “Why aren’t you looking at me?” Trixie askes, still unsatisfied. Katya huffed and looked up at Trixie. Seeing Trixie in person made her realize how much she’d missed her. She felt a lump forming in her throat and reached for her coffee. Trixie watched Katya sip from her mug, studying her face and how wrecked she looked. Her eyes were dark and glazed over, there was a slight hollow in her cheeks, unnoticeable to most, but not to Trixie. Her face was pale and dull, and her hands, when resting on the table, were the slightest bit shaky. Trixie didn’t know what to say. She stayed up the night before imagining an argument. She was going to demand an explanation and maybe Katya would have some crazy funny story about a guy she flew to Portugal for a 14 day rendezvous and they’d laugh and get over it, catching up with each other. Instead, Katya looked like death. Trixie didn’t know what to say, how to approach the problem Katya was obviously having. She wanted to be sensitive but not overbearing. More than anything, she didn’t want Katya to leave again. “Let’s go to my place, okay?” she finally said gently. Katya shrugged and followed suit. She pulled her hood over her head and crossed her arms, walking silently beside Trixie. Trixie eyed her a few times, still unknowing of how she was going to approach things and what’d even happened the past two months. 

They entered Trixie’s place and Katya felt the lump in her throat grow. She hadn’t been there in months. She missed the colorful decor, the smell of lavender in the air, and the warm welcoming feeling. It felt like a lifetime ago when she’d lay in Trixie’s couch, napping in her sea of throws, waking up every so often at the sound of conversation and Trixie’s laughter. Or when she’d sit at the kitchen counter while Trixie made sugar cookies with pink frosting for their friends. She felt overwhelmed, her breath hitched in her throat, and the inkling of a panic attack tickled under her skin. Trixie, watching her, noticed the panic rising in her face. “C’mon, sit at the couch, I’ll make us tea, and before you refuse, I swear you’ll like it, it’s super sweet. It’s fucking strawberry flavored. Just turn on the tv and play some music videos, it’ll only take a minute,” Trixie rushed through, trying to distract Katya from whatever she was thinking. She headed toward the kitchen. Katya made her way to the couch and sat down. She grabbed the throw closest to her hand, smiling at how soft it was, reminiscing. She brought it up and buried her face in it. The scent of Trixie filled her lungs. If she were one to cry, she would’ve. She would’ve cried and sobbed and screamed, releasing all her pain into this pink fuzzy throw. Instead, she closed her eyes, tried to stop shaking, and focused on the sounds Trixie was making in the kitchen. The clangs of teacups, tea tins being opened, water swooshing into mugs, spoons swirling sugar around porcelain, Trixie humming. Katya lifted her head from the blanket when she heard her coming.

“Where’s the music!” Trixie exclaimed, trying to lighten the mood, already falling into the familiarity of Katya in her home. She set down the two plates of tea and sat next to Katya. Katya was staring at the tea cups. Pastel pink tea cups with matching saucers, floral patterned with gold accents, small gold teaspoons with intricate handles sat in each cup. Steam rose from the mugs. It was these little things that made Katya love Trixie. These little things that made her feel warm inside, cared for, and safe. She closed her eyes again, her mouth felt dry, and her leg was shaking. She wanted to reach for the tea, but felt weak. Trixie looked at her and felt a sad pull at her heart, knowing she was in pain. She reached for Katya’s tea, “ _ here _ ” she whispered, Katya opened her eyes and took the warm tea in her hands. Trixie grabbed her phone and turned off the lights, keeping only two table lamps on, and locked the doors. She turned the heat up a little, hoping it might help the smaller girl’s shakes. “Are you tired?” she asked in explanation for the suddenly darkened room. “yeah, always,” Katya said softly, reaching to place her tea on the coffee table and grimacing in pain. “What hurts?” Trixie asked, more panicked than intended. “everything, i don’t know,” Katya replied. “Okay okay okay..” Trixie suggested. She stood up, moved some throws aside and adjusted some cushions. She then sat down, her back resting on the arm of her couch, and her legs reaching the entire length of her couch, she spread her legs apart and patted her chest. “Come here”, she demanded. Katya smiled weakly and crawled up between Trixie’s legs, her body falling perfectly against hers. She rested her head on Trixie’s chest while Trixie reached around them to pull throws over their bodies. Katya felt her body go into overdrive. The combination of feeling Trixie under her and being absolutely enveloped in her scent was overstimulating. It made her anxiety buzz. She clenched her teeth and fought against it, waiting for the anxiety to dissipate a little so she could enjoy the warmth of Trixie’s skin and the soft sound of her breath.

Trixie didn’t touch her immediately. Instead she kept her hands at her sides and waited a few moments for Katya to get comfortable, for the breathing to slow down, and the silence to settle. When Katya rubbed her palm back and forth Trixie's chest, Trixie wrapped her arm around Katya’s waist in response. Her hand fell on her side and she flinched at the feel of Katya’s ribcage. “Katya..” she let out quietly. She slipped a hand under Katya’s hoodie slowly, trying to read her body language. She rubbed her back slowly. She could feel the muscles in her body tensing and untensing, her foot shaking against hers, her irregular breath near her neck. “Katya,” she said again. “mm” the smaller girl hummed against clenched teeth, trying to stay still. “What did you start using again?” Trixie asked softly, fighting the crack in her voice, thankful they weren’t facing each other. Trixie stared ahead, waiting for an answer, scared. A few moments passed. The quiet huff of the heater filled the room. The lamps cast long shadows across the floor. Moonlight was snaking its way in through the open windows. She closed her eyes, comfort lulling her toward sleep, the first night in two months she’d be able to rest. The shaking against her foot slowed down, the smaller girl’s breathing was now deep and even. Katya opened her eyes, thankful Trixie couldn’t see the tears she was blinking back, “Everything” she replied. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I read a comment on one of their Youtube vids that said "it's so weird how yall infantilize katya" and I feel like I'm doing that in this fic? If anyone wants to open that discussion in the comments, I'm open to it. I don't want to offend or hurt anyone. / Also, I still don't know how I want to write about them in terms of pronouns, see a text I just sent my friend about it: "I’m writing about the drag queens. Btw they have totally mindfucked me. I don’t get if I’m attracted to them or not? Even as I write or when I read their fic, its like?? Am I writing them as though their drag personas are real women? Or as if one of them is a woman and the other is a guy? Or both guys but written as though they’re consciously aware they’re in drag? Or just write them as gay guys? A lot of the fics I read of them have to clarify that too. One of them said he’s never fucked in drag. The other has. So like,, sometimes there’s a sexual connotation to it and sometimes its gender switching and sometimes its not deep AT ALL and justtt playing dress up? So idk, everyone has their own perception of the ship kinda? It’s weirdddd. It’s kinda funny. Two gay guys in wigs and make up and suddenly all rules of gender and sexuality get skewed. WEAK ASS NORMS CANT HANDLE" / I don't know, enjoy the fic-


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